


Everything was blue/grey

by corverseus



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Multi, abuse mention, dont fuck around with trains theyre bad and its not good just dont fucking do it fam, dont fuck with trains, like im serious here, trains okay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-02
Updated: 2015-10-09
Packaged: 2018-04-24 05:05:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4906627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corverseus/pseuds/corverseus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Dave can remember is the sound of a blaring horn and bright lights. And yknow, the impact. The only thing John saw was his friend getting slammed by a train- and then getting up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Run.

Dave was more or less used to his brother's shitty attitude all the time. Whether if it was about work, or simply because someone had gone into his room to actually steal of bag of Doritos- which Dave had learned the hard way was not the smartest thing you could do. And he was -more or less- used to the sense of nervousness in the air when his brother came home from work, wondering whether or not he would snap. Though, 3 days before he ran it was the harshest it had been at the Strider household. Bro wasn't holding back with night training, thanks to shitty sales at his job and the recent trips Dirk had decided his best "buddy" Jake English needed- making it just the two at home. Making it one less person for bro to get pissed at. It wasn't like he had never fought his brother before, it was more that he had never fought this intensely.

If he fell Bro was on him in seconds, bitching for him to get up and actually fight. Normally he could take it, he could get up and he could continue the training, but that was Dirk was here to step in once it got really bad. When Bro turned his blade from the blunt to the of the blade. Of course Dave had felt that side of the blade, but when it was every night for at least a week, you would expect the kid to snap. For which he did. Last time Bro neared Dave, sword stabbed next to the the blond, messed up hair that was laid against the roof of their shitty apartment, he snapped. In fact, he snapped so hard, a left hook was brought to his brother's face, giving off the satisfying sound of cracking blood and the warmth of blood spraying across his knuckles. He could help but project a grin at the string of curses leaving his brother's lips in a rather loud voice. No doubt going to piss the neighbors off with that. Not like Dave would be around to hear it anyway, considering he was already making his way to the exit.

Black converses tapping along the roof, he skirted to a somewhat slower version of a run and tore the door open, eyes wide behind his dust covered shades. His adrenaline pumped as he shot down the stairs, ignoring the new setting sting of pain in his knuckles. After all, if he stopped to grab a bag of clothes, or his phone charger or simply anything really, Bro would be on his within seconds. So he just continued to tear down the stairs, hauling his ass like there was no tomorrow. The blond let out a shaky breath as the sound of a rather pissed off male echoed down the hall after him, but he was already on the last floor, legs screaming for him to slow down for at least a second. Which he wasn't going to do. If he thought his body was sore and in pain then, he was in for a world of hurt if he was caught.

Letting out a few shaken pants, Dave slowed to a slight walk as he reached the lobby, the eyes of the desk clerk glued to his ripped shirt as he pushed the glass doors open- only to shoot across the street. Dave let out a hysterical laugh as plenty of cars drifted to a halt, some almost hitting him, and all blaring their horns, his eyes closing for a split second, before he took a sharp turn- almost falling onto his ass. Which, would've only made him laugh harder. Except he was coated with the fear of mostly death, so that laugh wouldn't have lasted long before he was onto his feet and taking off again.

Before he found himself slowing to a stumbling walk, hands on his hips and chest rising and falling quickly. His legs burned and wobbled as he slowed, the thin built body crumbling under its own weight, causing a cloud of dust to float into the air and place along his sweat coated forehead. Around him the sky as a bright orange, signalling it was sunset. And that Dave had little to no idea where he was. He frowned some, before shakily pushing off his elbow to sit up, his head spinning as a hand shoved down into his pockets to pulling out a bright red cased iPhone. The light on the front was going crazy, flashing a bright blue color. John was messaging him, which was more than a bit weird considering he was the one to normally message John. But no, the proof was in the pudding and his phone was vibrating off the hook. He took in a deep breath of air and laid back again, letting his eyes fall shut as he attempted to catch his breath after his multi-mile run. Bringing a hand into his hair, he slicked back the soft, sweat soaked locks, before letting his hand drop over his shades, red eyes having shut behind the frames.

Dave sat like this for a few minutes, before he had calmed down enough to sit back up, and unlock his phone with shaking hands, his tongue dragging over dried lips with little effort to make them wet again. That would take a few gallons of water. Sure enough the top of his screen showed not only a message from John, but from Rose and Dirk. Deciding that it would be best to open Dirk's first, he pulled down the top and snickered softly from the messages, an eyebrow arching up as he read over the text.

TT: Dude Dave where the fuck are you?  
TT: I literally just got home and Bro is curled up in the bathroom, clutching his nose like it's a god damn treasure item.  
TT: Holy shit did you clock him in the face?  
TT: Dave where are you? I can come get you. You don't have to come back to the ap-

And that's where he stopped reading. With a roll of his eyes, he deleted the chat and shook his head. He wasn't going back sure, because he wasn't going to listen to his brother's mouth about how he should've just gotten up and taken it. Of course there was more, some seeming more urgent than the rest, but once again, the blond was not really up for listening to his brother bitch. So instead, he flicked the drop down menu again and selected the few amount of message Rose had sent him, an eyebrow raising as he read over the bright purple text.

TT: Hello, Dave?  
TT: Yea you're older brother wanted me to contact you, something about you not answering your phone.  
TT: Which I told him was completely normal, but he insisted that you would answer for me.  
TT: So here I am passing on the message that Dirk really needs to talk to you.  
TT: Personally I would answer him, Dave. But you don't exactly need to listen to me.  
TT: He did bring up Bro however, so I hope you're safe.

That was it. He frowned. OF course she would pass on the message, whether Bro was brought up or not, Rose often did was Dirk asked. He didn't really know why, but he wasn't really speaking against it. Maybe they had some deep understanding for each other. Or maybe they were in the "Protect Dave At All Costs" club that Rose often joked about with Jade. Wouldn't surprise him much, though Rose was known for pulling her own jokes now and then, so he wasn't exactly certain about it either. Whether or not he answered Rose didn't matter, considering she had -or possibly Dirk- had told John to message him, since the first line of blue he read went something like:

EB: hey man!! just checking in

Yea, that sounded fake, but whatever. The difference between Dirk plus Rose and John, was that Dave would read all of John's messages. And most likely respond, since John was one of the people -despite his effort to Rickroll him and relate through memes- that didn't annoy him when he got like this. Like this meaning ready to run and not stop. Ready to not answer his currently dying phone. Ready to simply shut off from the world and take whatever feelings he had and cap them into one big bottle inside his head. So he read on.

EB: both rose and your brother messaged me yknow.  
EB: they wanted to know where you were, so of course i told them i didnt know  
EB: because i dont!  
EB: but they wanted me to figure that out, so here i am messaging you to find out where you're at.

EB: and youre not answering  
EB: cool

He snickered softly at the pause between messaging, the time stamp changing by maybe ten minutes. Before the messages were a bit annoyed, but mostly care free. Now they were urgent, important even.

EB: dirk told me what happened dave where are you?  
EB: i can come pick you up, dad will let me use his car  
EB: david elliot strider if you dont answer me right now i swear to god i will track the gps in your phone

He cracked a smile, lopsided smile and returned the text, jumping a bit as a ping sounded through the cool air. Of course he wasn't expecting John to message back right away, but surprise surprise.

TG: since when did you put a tracker on my phone  
EB: shut the hell up and tell me where you are you prick  
TG: woah calm the language there hot shot there might be kids around  
TG: but honestly i have no idea where im at  
TG: like i just started running and no i have no idea where i am  
TG: so tracking that gps on my phone might be worth it man  
EB: so youre lost  
EB: great. fucking perfect dave!  
EB: groans 

He let out a small laugh, his red painted lips quirking up in a slight smile. He tipped his head some as he stumbled to get onto his feet, not really trying to get up as graceful as he normally would. He glanced around and let out a small shaken sigh, his eyes hooking on a sign- W. Innox. He glanced down to the ground, frowning at the sight of a road crossing under train tracks, an eyebrow raising. 

TG: so im by these train tracks on west innox road  
TG: wherever the hell that is exactly  
TG: please come get me its getting cold  
TG: and dont tell bro you have me  
TG: or dirk  
EB: i got it tell no one youre with me  
TG: or rose  
TG: yes basically 

His head shot up at the sound of a crack, his heartbeat stopping for a moment as terror filled his chest. Suddenly, the sound that would be a train crossing over the tracks was blocked out, and his vision blurred a bright white. One thought crossed his mind, for which he acted on. 

TG: someone is here john ill be right back  
EB: no wait dave im almost there dont EB: god damn it

 

John wouldn’t get a response as he turned the corner of the street. Instead he would watch as Dave shot from his spot, dropping his phone and hurriedly ran towards the on coming train. He would watch as his best friend vanished behind the cool metal of a rather quick moving train. He would sit in silence like death as his eyes hooked on the train tracks, hoping that Dave had made it across. His foot would lift from the gas pedal as he realized Dave didn’t from what he could see. The black haired male wouldn’t realize he was crying until it was too late, and his body was no longer in the car, rather throwing itself towards the tracks. He hesitated for a moment as the train rushed by, but soon his heart race was slowed to a stop as the end rushed by. Before his eyes sat a body. A- surprisingly, perfectly put together except for the kisses of dusk, and the probably-now-infected cuts along- body.

“Dave!” John cried out shrill, launching himself over the red and white pole. So, hurdler jumping did come in handy for other times in his life. Though, his feet didn't since he had managed to almost trip over them about four times now. Which, the last time caused him to eat the ground, the sound of his glasses cracking making him whimper, but either way he was next to Dave now which wasn’t really an issue for him. He reached out and quickly shook the other, only getting a low groan from the male. So he wasn’t dead, which was a plus. because honestly who would want to watch their best friend die. 

Which meant, that either Dave made the jump and hit his head or something upon falling or that he...was hit but wasn’t dead. And that was weird to think about, so John decided to shove that thought from his head. He reached out and carefully shook his shoulders, letting out a small hic as he tried his best to wake the not-dead-maybe-sleeping-or-possibly-passed-out-male in front of him, with some success. In fact, the blond even groaned against and rolled onto his shirt tattered back, eyes blinking open from….one lens filled shades, his eyebrows furrowing as he stared at John. 

“What?” John whispered, his lips turning up in a slight smile. “You’re alive, Dave! Why are you frowning?!” The blond pushed up onto his elbows and pushed back some, his breath picking up as he watch his ‘friend’. He let out a small huff and flickered his red gaze away, tongue flicking over his slightly swollen lip before he spoke. 

“I have no idea who the fuck you are.” That hit John hard, causing him to fall back a bit on his knees, eyes wide from his now cracked square shaped glasses. 

“Excuse me?” He muttered, eyebrows arching up. “Dave if you’re pulling some type of sick fucking joke-” 

“I’m not,” Dave interrupted, shuffling back a bit more and wobbling a bit as he stared at the other male, frowning, “and how do I even know Dave is my name? That could be some bullshit you’re making up.” He paused before spitting out in a cruel tone, “Who even are you?” 

John took in a shocked breath, his blue eyes flickering away a few times before they hooked down on the cool tracks in front of him. A red piece of fabric, no doubt from Dave’s fabric missing shirt waved around in the air and he couldn’t help but perk up a slight smile. He quickly reached into his back pocket and tugged out a blue cased Iphone, holding it out to dave after unlocking it. On the screen was a dorky picture of the two in matching shirts- first day of 8th grade didn't go so well. He sniffled some and furrowed his eyebrows. 

“This is us in 8th grade, after we were shoved into a locker, but were both smiling because even if we got shoved into a locker, we were in 8th grade and it was great,” He spat, an eyebrow arching up. “Your name is David Elliot Strider, and you’re my best friend and you almost got hit by a fucking train you prick.” Dave stared up at him with a rather confused expression, before taking his phone and looking over the boy’s home screen. That was him from what he could see in the reflection of his phone, but almost hit by a train? He looked up and opened his mouth to speak, but a yawn cut him off. Instead he squeezed his eyes, nose scrunching up as John smiled softly and spoke over that yawn. 

“You ran more than two miles today Dave, not to mention fighting with...Bro. You can come home with me okay? Dad wouldn’t mind it, though he’s out on a business trip. It’ll be just like old times and maybe it’ll get you to remember me, yea?” Dave glanced up and held his phone back out with a slight skeptical glance, but nodded. He held out his hand, for which John took upon standing up himself and pulled the blond up, smiling awkwardly. Dave only stared back and slipped off his shades, turning and throwing them in some direction with an annoyed hiss. 

“What even was the purpose of those things? It's the middle of the fucking night.” He turned back to a slightly shocked John and untangled their hands, pushing them into his jean pockets. “What?” 

“Nothing!” John chirped back, throwing his hands up as if someone was accusing him of robbing a bank- like who him? Never. He chuckled and let his hands drop, one moving to shove his sweat glistening phone back into his pocket, before turning on his heel and leading Dave back to his car. Which only leaded to an awkward sitting in silence for the most part, Dave staring silently out the window, hand locked to the handle like he would need to tuck and roll on the highway, and John glancing over at thus said G.I Joe about to just do that. 

“uh…” John paused for a moment, as he pulled to a stoplight and glanced over at the male. “Yknow you don't have to just..sit there. If you wanna know something, you can ask me.” Red eyes flashing over to John, Dave shrugged. 

“I guess,” He muttered before slowly letting go of the car handle and leaning back in his seat. “So just to clarify, my name is David but you call me Dave, I’m old enough to be out of highschool I’d assume, and for some reason there's cuts all over my body.” John nodded along to is words and smiled. 

“Looks like you've got everything about you down, other than your weird love for irony and fucking puppets i guess.” He shrugged and glanced over to the blond once more, before sighing and turning his gaze to the road, arriving to his house a few moments later. He unlocked the doors and let Dave out, before getting out himself and shuffled to the door, using his key s to a. unlock the front door, and b. lock his car. 

Rambling a bit, John said something about getting Dave a few pillows and a blanket and how he could crash on the couch until tomorrow, before running off and leaving Dave standing awkwardly in the living room, face-to-face with a portrait of people he could only assume were his grandmother and father. He took in a sharp inhale and looked around, pushing his hands deeper into his pockets and pouting some as he shuffled over to a rather sad look pure white couch and plopping down. A few moments later, John Returned with not only his blanket and pillow, but a new shirt and a box of medical supplies. 

“Sit forward some,” he barked before hauling himself over the couch and taking his spot behind Dave, wrapping his legs around his waist. Of course Dave found this a little too close and moved forward some, frowning as John tugged off his tagged shirt and applied a rather cool layer of rubbing alcohol and disinfectant cream on his back, causing him to whimper out and bark a few stops here and there. 

Time passed and Dave had his back and chest both cleaned and bandaged, only letting out a few more harsh words at the only giggling John, before he had a shirt back on and was curled under the blanket on a rather nice feeling couch, his eyes falling shut heavily. John, after cleaning his wounds, had vanished up to his room and the soundtrack of Con Air muffled by his door still proved he was up. Though Dave didn’t seem to mind as he slipped into a dark sleep. 

 

That was until he felt a tight grip around his throat, the sound of a blaring horn and bright lights clouding his once pleasant dreams.


	2. Goodnight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chapter i am sorry

Dave could feel as the hands around his neck tightened to squeeze the life from his lungs. He could feel the rough skin pressing into the raw skin over his neck. The calluses that were burned into those hands by hard work. And in response to those strong hands, his fingers shot up to grab at a wrist hidden by blinding light in his eyes. He clawed at the skin, ignoring the feeling of skin pulling up and the fresh warmth from blood. He just wanted to breath, to take in air again. To feel his chest rise and fall without having to fight for the air. Dave let out a few choked stops, that not only echoed in his dream, but in his life outside the world. 

His red eyes widened further as the bright whiteness that blocked him from seeing the rest of the male faded, showing off a pop-collared white polo. The top was slicked with bright red blood, which gushed from along cut along the front of the person’s neck. Leading up from the gore seen was a strong, square-to-round-tipped jaw, and a pair of blacked out pointy shades, though one side was cracked to show off pure white eyes. The male opened his mouth to speak, but only a train horn sounded from inside his mouth, causing Dave to close his eyes and flinch away. 

“S-sstop!” He screamed at the best he could, letting out a choked noise as the hands around his neck only grew tighter, his face heating up. He let out a few soft sobs as the male tipped his head, the gray hat falling off to show off bright blond hair, slicked back in a gel to appear as strong points. Though Dave fought against his attacker, he could feel himself slipping, his eyes falling shut to watch as the male’s lips turned up in a slight grin. 

Suddenly he shot up from the couch, coughing and hacking. His hand shot up to his throat to try and pull away what he thought would be a hand, but he was slightly shocked to feel nothing but the pressure of his own hand against his adam’s apple. He swallowed roughly and stared down at his blankets as droplets of sweat rolled from his forehead and onto the blankets, his body quivering despite the heat surrounding his body. “F-fuck,” He whispered and clawed at the blanket, throwing them to the side. The image of the gray-hat male burned into his mind as he stumbled around, pulling open drawers as he searched for paper, his throat closing more and more as he moved. “fuck,fuck fuck!” 

He quickly moved from the couch and around the house, quietly pulling open drawers. He finally pulled out a small piece of paper, and a pencil. Though the paper was small, he had decided that it was just going to have to work. It wasn't like he was going to make a full body image of the male or anything. He shuffled into the kitchen and plopped down into a chair at the kitchen table, sketching out the image of the male onto the paper with furrowed brows and a slight frown. Though he couldn't be actually one hundred and fifty fucking percent sure, he knew he had seen this person at least once before. 

His fingers doodled away as he sketched out the face, honestly surprised by his somewhat well enough artistic skills. He let out a shaky sigh as he finished and shoved the paper forward, dropping his pencil and pressing his lips into a tight, thin pressed line. He let his eyes flicker close. 

“What’re you doing?” 

His eyes snapped open as he let out a small scream, almost falling from his chair at the kitchen table and turning to look back as a very tired looking John, the male having being in nothing other than a nice set of GhostBusters boxes and messy hair. He crossed his arms and stared blankly at Dave with a very unhappy look on his face, before his eyes strayed to the paper in front of the blond. An eyebrow raised as he shuffled over, feet making light pat noises against the tile. 

“What’s that?” He muttered and reached for it, but Dave had managed to snap his hand out and grab it before John could, hugging the paper to his chest with a slight frown. “Doesn’t matter.” John arched an eyebrow and placed a hand on one of his hips, staring down at the male with an annoyed look. “Lemme see the stupid paper, Dave.” 

“Why should I?” He responded, furrowing his eyebrows. “Because this is my house,” John replied with a soft snort. Dave opened his mouth to speak, an eyebrow raising as he did so. “While that is a lovely po-” “Thats also technically speaking, my paper,” John interrupted, raising both his eyebrows with a small smirk. Dave closed his mouth with a slight frown before holding out the picture. “How the fuck did you even get down here without me knowing?” 

John took the picture and shrugged one shoulder, chewing his lip as he glanced over the image, his slight smirk turning into a deep frown. “I walk softly,” He half-assed answered, not really listening as Dave rambled on about how complete and utter bullshit-y John was being, and how he didn’t even say sorry for scaring the ever loving shit out of him. John only simply looked up after a minute and turned the drawing around, tapping it lightly. “Do you know who this is?” 

“No? He was just some guy in my dream,” Dave mumbled after pausing for a moment, his eyes hooked on John’s face for a moment. “You know who he is, don’t you?” John tightened his jaw and turned his blue gaze away with a small huff. “No, i-” “Bullshit!” Dave snapped, anger filling his stomach. “Thats bullshit! You do know! I can see it in your face. Why the fuck won’t you tell me? If you know him and I’m seeing him in my dreams I deserve to know!” 

John stared at him in amazement, eyebrows arching up in a slight shocked expression, before he let them drop and shook his head. “That’s your brother, Dave. He died last night. Now go to bed.” With that he turned and stalked to the trash can in the kitchen, ripping the photo apart and throwing it away. Dave sat in a slight look of shock, his mouth hanging open. “What?” He muttered and quickly stood, trailing after John to the stairs. “What did you say?” 

“I said go to sleep,” John hissed back, glancing back and staring at Dave blankly. “I dont believe you,” Dave snarled, scrunching his nose up. “I want to see his body.” John’s eyebrows pressed together for a moment as he sighed, bringing a hand up to his nose and pinching the bridge with a few annoyed mutters. After a moment of silence, he replied. “Go lay down, Dave. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.” With that, he turned on his heel and stalked up into his room, leaving the blond perched on the stairs with a slightly pissed off expression. 

Dave sighed and pushed away from the stairs with a small sound, walking back to the couch and sitting down, rolling his hands through his hair, before setting his hands in his face as he thought. What else had John not told him? Though it wasn't like he had asked if he had a family, or any other friends. As his mind buzzed and laid back down and shuffled for a bit before slipping back into sleep. The nightmare began right where it left off, with Dave slipping into his death and having his eyes snap open to face nothing but a bright, colossal white light. His pure white eyes widened in shock, watching at the light dulled to individual dots in the nothing that was what he assumed was death, before brightening and engulfing him in the light. 

After that it just felt like floating, like he was a leaf dropping in the cool Autumn air. That was until the smell of something cooking made his eyes snap open. 

“Morning sleepyhead!” A familiar voice called, walking to the doorway of the kitchen in an apron, holding a silver skillet with some thin pieces of meat burning in it. “I made bacon.”


End file.
